


It Suited You

by Arvanion



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bedside Vigils, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Friendship, M/M, One-sided Conversation, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Puffin Shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvanion/pseuds/Arvanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the <i>Millennium Falcon</i> comes in for a landing on D'Qar, Poe's worries only grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Landing

When the remaining pilots of the Resistance fighter squadrons set course for the base on D'Qar, flushed with their success at Starkiller Base, Poe Dameron was convinced that nothing could dim the glory of what they had done. They may have lost comrades, but against all odds they had won the battle.

“Hey, Poe, d'you think they'll give us medals?” Snap's voice came over the comms, still slightly out of breath with adrenaline.

Poe grinned. “What, in a big ceremony or something?”

“Yeah. With dress uniforms and music and that sort of thing.” Snap's tone became more and more eager as he went on. “Receiving medals from the General herself wouldn't be that bad.”

Blue Three—Jessika Pava—joined the conversation with a wry chuckle. “If any of us pilots gets a medal, it'll be Poe and Poe alone. He's the one who did most of the damage.”

“By flying inside like a crazy bastard,” Snap chuckled. “He's trying too hard.”

“Hey, if I get a medal, they'd sure as hell'd better have one for Finn and Han. And Chewie, too,” said Poe hurriedly. _Nearly forgot about him_. _Bad idea to forget about a Wookiee._

“Finn, Finn, Finn,” said Snap in a singsong voice. “The way you keep talking, he must be a _pretty_ special guy.”

“Wexley...” said Pava, her tone somewhat exasperated.

“Sorry, Jess,” said Snap sheepishly.

“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Poe.”

“Heh. Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood,” said Poe with a chuckle. “Let's cut the chatter for now. This isn't over until we've landed.”

As the radio fell silent, the smile on Poe's face turned slightly wry. _Well, Snap was right. Finn_ is _a pretty special guy._

The light on his comm panel began blinking, a signal that someone was hailing him on a private channel, and he rolled his eyes as he accepted the call. “Snap, what did I _just—_ ”

The voice that interrupted him was unfamiliar: a young woman's voice, somewhat strained. “Are you... Poe Dameron?”

“Uhh, yes.” He racked his brain for a name. “You're... are you Rey? The one my buddy Finn went after, with Han Solo?”

There was a slight hesitation before the answer, as if there was a catch in her voice. “I... yes. That's me.”

Poe sighed in relief, a smile spreading across his face. “They got you out, then. And the shields, too. We wouldn't have been able to do this without him.”

“...yes.” Once again, a monosyllabic answer. This Rey, whoever she was, wasn't particularly talkative—that much seemed apparent.

“Hey, Rey, could you put Finn on? I want to congratulate him on a job well done.”

There was another moment of hesitation, and Poe felt a rising sense of unease. When Rey spoke again, he suddenly understood everything—the hesitation, the short responses, the wavering tone.

She was doing everything she could to keep from crying.

“Finn is... he...”

Feeling as if icy fingers had closed around his heart, Poe listened to everything she had to say.

\---

After he had landed, Poe rushed over to the landing pad assigned to the _Millennium Falcon_ , desperate to see Finn as soon as he got off the ship. He had already called ahead, making sure that a medical crew would be waiting the moment that they touched down.

He waited anxiously at a safe distance, a crowd gathering around him as he watched the _Falcon_ fly in. The news of what had happened on the base's surface had spread like wildfire. General Organa stood stiffly to one side, her back ramrod-straight, seeming to loom large in her resolve despite her diminutive stature.

At last, the freighter settled into position. There were a few moments of tense quiet before the landing ramp descended and the remaining crew staggered out.

Poe barely had time to spare a glance for Rey—disheveled, tattered, disbelief and sorrow etched into every line of her pretty face—before his eyes were drawn to Finn. His friend lay limply in Chewbacca's arms, looking more dead than alive, the jacket he'd gotten from Poe slashed and burned. _He fought with Ren?_

He watched anxiously as the medics settled Finn onto the back of their cart, feeling at the former stormtrooper's wrists and throat for a pulse. Poe was terrified they would find nothing—Ren was not known for sparing his enemies. But after a moment that felt more like an eternity, one of the medics looked up. “We've got a heartbeat!”

The cart began moving. Poe jogged to keep up with it, ignoring the crowd around him. His friends would understand that he needed to be at Finn's side. It was the least he could do.

\---

“You know,” said Poe, staring at the wall, “I never got around to thanking you properly.”

Finn didn't say anything. Poe hadn't expected him to.

“I mean, I suppose that I did thank you. A bit. But you saved my life, and a bit of thanks doesn't really cut it for that.”

More silence.

“I hadn't really expected to get out of that ship alive. After cracking under Ren's pressure, I barely thought that I deserved to. But you gave me a reason to keep on living. You needed my help as much as I needed yours.”

He rested one of his hands gently on top of Finn's, where it lay on top of the infirmary bed's sheets. “Without you, all of us would be dead. Me, Snap, Jess, and all the other pilots owe you our lives. Hell, if I'd gotten a medal, I'd pass it on to you right now.”

He looked over at his old jacket, taking in once again the long char marks inflicted by Ren's lightsaber. “You've been through a lot. I wish I could talk about it with you, but—”

He heard someone clear their throat and turned to see Snap standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Poe?”

“Yes?”

“They want us in the main comm room,” Snap said, his tone apologetic. “Something about the map being complete?”

Poe felt a surge of excitement. “I'll be right there.”

As Snap headed down the hallway, Poe turned back to the comatose Finn. One hand went out, almost of its own volition, tracing down the other man's arm in a reassuring gesture.

“Just sleep well, buddy,” he whispered. “I'll be here for you when you wake up.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just over a week since I saw the movie, and I'm finally getting around to putting down a few of my shipping hell feelings. Possibly more to come.


	2. A Great Man

“I'm sorry, sir, but there's nothing new.” The medic, a middle-aged woman with skin as dark as Finn's, gave Poe a sympathetic look as she turned away from the screen. “He sustained quite heavy injuries, and the nature of the wounds makes tending to them somewhat—”

“I don't need the specifics,” said the pilot wearily.

“Well, in short, we are doing our best to ensure his condition remains stable,” said the medic.

“But he's all right?”

“Yes, all signs indicate that he will recover.”

“But when will he—”

“We're not sure. These things take time to sort out.”

Poe raked his fingers through his hair. “Let me know as soon as there are any new developments.”

“Rest assured, sir, you will be the first to know.”

Poe looked down at the ground, fidgeting. “Sorry. I know I'm asking a lot of questions.”

“I've worked as a medic long enough to expect this sort of thing when close friendships are involved. While I'm not familiar with this young man, I can tell that he's very important to you, so it's only natural that you'd express concern.”

“...thank you,” said Poe quietly.

The medic stepped forward, laying a hand on Poe's shoulder, and gave him an encouraging smile. “Don't worry, boy. He'll be as good as new before you know it.”

Poe smiled and tried to believe her.

 ---

He knew that he would only brood about Finn if he didn't find some way to take his mind off of matters, and right now, a run seemed like an excellent idea. The weather today was clear, and physical exercise would be a good distraction.

Wexley and Pava looked up as he entered the common area of the pilots' quarters, nodding their greetings to him before going back to their game of pazaak. Poe caught a quick glimpse of the table as he passed: by the way the chips were laid, Snap seemed to be winning quite handily.

He ducked into his room and quickly changed into more appropriate running clothes. Both of his fellow pilots looked up once again as he exited.

“Headed out for a run, Poe?” said Pava.

“Yeah.”

“Looking for company? I could use some fresh air.”

“Get your fresh air later,” said Snap, tapping one finger on the table. “You're just looking for an excuse to get away from the game.”

“Or maybe I care about my physical well-being.”

“You don't need bulging muscles to fly an X-wing, Jess,” Snap pointed out.

She gave him a scathing glare. “Nor do _you_ need much of a brain, apparently.”

Snap chuckled, flashing a thumbs-up. “Ooh, nice one. You're still losing to me, though.”

Pava rolled her eyes, looking back to Poe. “Save me, boss.”

“Afraid I can't this time,” said Poe, giving the pair a genuine, if shaky, smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I really need to clear my head.”

“Ah.” She and Snap exchanged an inscrutable look, then turned back to the table, waving offhandedly.

“Have a good run, Poe,” said Wexley, his tone now somewhat subdued.

“Don't work yourself too hard, boss.”

Poe nodded. “Sure thing.”

 ---

Almost an hour later, Poe slowed to a walk, pulling up the neckline of his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead. He'd run at least twice as far as he usually did, taking a wide loop of the service roads around the landing area. The few Resistance workers he'd passed had given him friendly nods, but didn't try to engage him in conversation.

He was grateful for that, at least. But despite his best efforts to clear his head, he was still consumed by worry. He couldn't forget the images of those long slashes in the coat, the marks of Ren's lightsaber. _After all that, should I really be surprised he hasn't woken up...?_

Poe was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he nearly ran into a woman walking in the opposite direction. He looked up at the last moment and hastily moved aside.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, before he got a closer look at her face and practically jumped to attention, stammering in embarrassment. “I-I mean, my apologies, General Organa! I wasn't watching where I was going, and—”

The General smiled faintly. “Just Leia is fine, Poe. It's not as if there are officers around to call you out on it.”

Poe rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess. I hope I'm not interrupting anything...”

“Not at all. Are you busy?”

“Not really.”

“Good.” She began walking again, beckoning to him to fall in alongside her. “Come on, let's talk.”

“If you say so, Gen—er, that is, Leia.”

Poe fell into step with her, taking in her appearance as he did. She wore her usual uniform, neatly pressed as always, but there was a small addition: a black band around one arm. _Mourning. After all, she and Han Solo were..._

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I... uh, that is, I'm sorry for your loss, Leia.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“He... uh, General Solo, I mean. He was a great man.”

Leia chuckled dryly, repeating his words with a trace of irony. “ _A great man_. Heh. Han would have been the first to correct you on that front.”

“I didn't mean to—” Poe began.

Leia shook her head. “No, you're right. He really was, even if he didn't want to admit it for himself. He'd say that he got lucky, or that someone else could take the credit. Despite how he acted, I don't think he enjoyed being in the spotlight very much. That's just the kind of person he was.”

“Did Rey... I mean, did you hear how...” Poe trailed off.

“Yes,” Leia said simply. She looked ahead of her, pensively. “Both Han and I knew that this might happen—no, maybe expected it _would_ happen.” Her voice dropped to a near-whisper, as if her next words were for her ears alone. “I always hated saying goodbye.”

“You... knew?”

“It was always a possibility, given our respective roles. But...” Leia's smile was bittersweet. “He always believed he could succeed. _Never tell me the odds_ , he'd always say. Because no matter what the odds were, he'd always try to find some ridiculous way to get through... by luck, or the Force, I don't know. But we both knew that kind of luck couldn't last forever." She rubbed at her forehead. "I both loved and hated his ridiculous stubbornness. But I know that I'll miss it.”

Poe couldn't think of anything to say in reply to that, and so he said nothing. There was a long silence, broken only by their footsteps on the road.

After a moment, Leia turned an evaluating gaze on Poe. “Are _you_ all right?”

He blinked, caught off-guard by the General's question. “Uh, what do you mean?”

She crossed her arms. “You're jumpy, distracted, and on a run two hours earlier than usual, unless I've mistaken your usual schedule. Something is clearly bothering you, but you're not sure whether or not to talk about it.”

Poe looked at her askance. “How—”

The General chuckled wryly. “When you've led troops as long as I have, you get pretty good at picking up on this sort of thing.”

Poe stared at his boots. “I didn't want to... Well, it's just that... you've lost so much more than I have. I don't want to put any more weight on you...”

Leia's sigh carried a hint of exasperation. “Poe. Everyone deals with grief in their own way. It's not something that should be weighed, or measured, or compared—it just _is_.”

She put a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of almost parental affection. “When I was your age, I saw Alderaan destroyed by the Empire. My home, my family... gone, in the blink of an eye and the press of a switch. I barely allowed myself any time to grieve: my mind was focused on survival, and the greater good, and continuing on in my work for the Rebellion. But you know what?”

“What?”

“I couldn't push it away forever. I needed to talk to the people around me. And so I did. People like my brother, and Han. People who, even if they didn't have the same troubles as me, were willing to listen and to sympathize. I _know_ how it feels to deal with grief alone. And I wouldn't wish the same pain on anyone, especially not when I can do something about it.” Leia squeezed his shoulder. “So if you ever want to talk to me, don't think for a moment that I'll dismiss how _you_ feel in any way.”

Poe felt tears of relief welling up in his eyes. “...thank you,” he managed to rasp out. It was all he could do to stop his voice from breaking.

To his surprise, he felt Leia pull him closer, into a brief, reassuring hug. “Take care of yourself, all right?” A bit of humor returned to her voice. “That's an order from your commander.”

Poe managed to smile as he saluted. “Yes... General.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia being kind and validating and helping other people through their problems is everything that I exist for.
> 
> (I also exist for people leaving comments, so don't be shy)


	3. Chasing a Legend

When Poe got back from his run, both Wexley and Pava were gone. He felt an odd mix of relief and regret at that: on one hand, he wanted to tell them all about his conversation with General Organa, but on the other, he appreciated having more time to work it through by himself.

He headed into the washroom to freshen up, leaving his running clothes in a heap on the floor. For a long time, he stood under the rushing water, letting it wash over his face. Poe stood there for almost ten minutes, unmoving, eyes closed. At last, he shook himself and, with regained briskness and efficiency, scrubbed the sweat from his skin.

Dressed in clean clothes, he headed for the door, reaching absent-mindedly for his jacket as he prepared to leave. He realized, belatedly, that his jacket was in the infirmary, lying over the back of a chair and covered in scorch marks.

Poe slapped a hand to either side of his face and let out a long breath. _Damn... I can't focus at all._ He headed back to his room to grab a different jacket, thumbing his comlink on as he pulled his arms into the sleeves. “Hey, Snap, what are you up to?

There was a brief pause before his fellow pilot answered. “Jess and I headed over to the airfield to do some check-ups on our T-70s.”

“Ah, I see. I think I'll head over your way.”

“Sure thing.” Another pause. “How was your run?”

Poe chuckled ruefully. “I'll tell you guys all about it later.”

“Oh boy, now I'm concerned,” said Wexley with a laugh. “See you in a few.”

\---

When Poe reached the airfield, he was struck by how different it looked now. The Resistance had lost more than a few craft in the Starkiller attack run, and it was impossible to look at the airfield without noting the empty spaces where those fighters had been.

His own Black One was near the far end of the airfield, with Jess and Snap's fighters nearby. He noted as he approached that Jess was halfway up a ladder, bending down over her cockpit with her back turned. _Is she making adjustments or something?_

Snap, standing by the nose of Jess's fighter, waved to Poe as he approached, turning to the cockpit to call out. “Hey, you two, Poe's here!”

“What do you mean, _you two_?” said Poe. “Who else is here?”

Jess turned, smiling. “We've got a special guest today.”

Poe was about to ask who it was when another person stood up from inside the cockpit. Pava's flight helmet covered her face, but her plain beige robes struck a familiar chord in his memory. _Rey_.

The young woman pulled off the helmet, her cheeks slightly flushed. “You're Poe Dameron!”

“Yeah, that's me,” said Poe. Pava hopped down the ladder, clearing a way for Rey to clamber down herself. Upon reaching the ground, she took a few steps forward.

“Uh. Hello, I'm Rey.” She stuck out her hand abruptly, her entire arm straight and stiff. Poe hid a smile as he shook it, slowly enough to keep her from getting nervous. She released his hand quickly, stepping back to a more comfortable distance, and resumed talking.

“Finn told me about you. I mean, not _everything_ about you, obviously, but at least a bit.”

Poe smiled slightly. “Only the good things, I hope.”

“He told me that you were the best pilot in the Resistance,” said Rey.

Jess and Snap exchanged identical grins behind her back. “The real question,” said Snap, “is whether he came to that conclusion independently or not.”

“Hello, I'm Poe Dameron,” said Jess, dropping her voice an octave or so to imitate her squadron leader. “Best pilot in the Resistance.”

Poe rolled his eyes. “I don't do that.”

“You do that sometimes.”

“...okay, I do that _sometimes_.” He glanced up at the cockpit. “So, are Jess and Snap treating you well? Giving you the full tour?”

“Yeah!” Rey's face lit up with excitement. “Jess was showing me how the X-wing works.” Her hands moved in excited gestures, sketching out the outlines of the cockpit. “All of the different ways to maneuver, or shake a ship that's tailing you...”

“She's just about my size, so I didn't really have to make any adjustments to the seat or controls to keep it comfortable,” said Pava. “And the helmet fit well.”

Rey nodded. “Back home, I have a helmet that used to belong to an X-wing pilot.” She grinned over at Jess. “Yours is cleaner, though.”

“She has a lot of free time,” said Snap, deftly taking a step away to dodge Jess's half-hearted swipe.

“I kind of want to see what the full uniform is like,” Rey admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“I'm sure that one of my spare flightsuits would fit you, if you wanted to try it out,” said Jess.

“Really? That would be—!” Rey began, before calming down with a visible effort. “I mean, that is to say, yes.”

Her excitement reminded Poe of a kid playing dress-up with their parents' clothes. _I guess that might not be too far off from the truth, given how she grew up..._

Rey looked back at the cockpit somewhat wistfully. “This is the first time I've seen an X-wing in working condition, actually. The ones back on Jakku were all hollowed-out... there wasn't really much left of them outside the skeletons. I've always wondered what it would be like to fly one.”

“If you want to, you could try it out,” said Jess.

“You should probably start in a simulator first,” said Snap, simultaneously.

As the two pilots looked at each other in annoyance, Poe smiled at Rey. “What they're trying to say is that the Resistance is always looking for good pilots. If you want to fly, I'm sure we could find a spot in the squadron for you.”

Rey looked from one to the other in confusion, then laughed. “That's... really nice of you to offer. But...” She looked at the ground. “I... I need to leave. As soon as I can.”

“You're leaving already?”

“Chewie and I are prepared to lift off as soon as possible, once we've loaded some more supplies. We'll launch the _Millennium Falcon_ before the day's out.”

“But why?” said Pava, looking rather put out at the news.

“I need to find Luke Skywalker,” Rey said simply. She met Poe's eyes, and he was struck by the determination in her gaze. “If I'm meant to be a Jedi, he's my only hope. And I have questions that only he can answer: about the Force, and the Jedi, and myself.”

Poe frowned. “I thought you'd be staying longer. I mean, at least until Finn wakes up. You're the best friend he has.”

There was a hint of pleading in his voice. He knew that Finn cared about her deeply: that was the entire reason he had gone to Starkiller Base in the first place. Finn had shared much more with Rey than with him. _That's why it would be better if she was still here. I'm sure he would feel better..._

“Believe me, I wish I could. I don't like leaving him behind.” She shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and in a softer voice, said “I don't like leaving _anyone_ behind.”

Poe looked at Snap and Jess. The two other pilots looked uncomfortable, as if they had just inadvertently intruded on a private moment. _Good to see I'm not the only one who feels that way..._

After a moment, Rey looked up again, managing a small smile. “But that's why I'm counting on you to be there for him. I feel like I can trust you.”

The word _you_ probably meant all three of the pilots present, but to Poe, it seemed as if the entire weight of it was directed toward him. He nodded to Rey. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” she said. After a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward and gave him a brief hug, which he gingerly returned. Snap chuckled softly at the expression on his wingleader's face, but his amusement quickly gave way to surprise as Rey hugged him, too. “And thank you, too. I'm glad that we got a chance to do this together.”

“Me, too.” Jessika handled Rey's third hug with much more ease than either of her comrades. As the two stepped apart, she patted the other woman on the shoulder. “Travel safe, and bring back Luke as soon as you can. The General needs her brother, now more than ever.”

“I will.”

Jess grinned. “I know you will. And maybe when you get back, you can take that test flight.”

“Really?” said Rey excitedly.

“Sure! It'll give you something to look forward to.” “Might even be good training. From how I've heard it told, Skywalker was quite the pilot back in the day.”

Rey bounced forward and hugged Pava again. “Thanks, Jess! You're the best.”

The black-haired pilot glanced back over her shoulder, a smug look on her face. “You hear that, Poe? _I'm_ the best.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” said Poe. He smiled at Rey, sad but resigned. “Fly safe, and may the Force be with you.”

Rey looked at the ground again, as if steeling herself. “Poe?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask one more favor?”

\---

Dozens of Resistance personnel, from the lowliest foot soldiers to the highest-ranking officers, turned out to watch the launch of the _Millennium Falcon._ Poe, standing off to the side of the crowd with his fellow pilots, saw Rey and General Organa together near the loading ramp, heads bent in quiet conversation. After a few moments, they broke off—the General to the rest of the crowd, Rey to the ship— _her_ ship.

She paused for a moment at the top of the ramp, lifting a hand in farewell. Poe raised his own in acknowledgment. _She's strong. She'll do well, no matter what the circumstances._

Her last favor had been quite simple: someone to show her the way to the infirmary, so that she could say good-bye to Finn before she went. He'd stayed outside the door when she went in, giving her a moment alone with the former stormtrooper out of respect for the bond the two had shared. _It's really incredible, how quickly our friendships form._

 _Even if she's still gone when you wake up, buddy... she cares a lot about you. I'll be sure to tell you that she came_.

And so, with a bittersweet smile on his face, he watched as the _Falcon's_ engines lit up and Rey turned its nose skyward, flying with an admirably steady hand. And along with the others, he watched it go, and waved until it was a mere dot in the sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually went through the trouble of looking up Jessica Henwick and Daisy Ridley's respective heights to make sure that my comparison was accurate. _That_ is _dedication._ *  
> *It really isn't.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticisms are always ~~desperately wished for~~ appreciated! ^_^


	4. Raise a Glass

The mess was crowded tonight, most of the seats filled by whatever personnel weren't preoccupied by other duties. Despite that, however, Poe was painfully aware of the empty seats. _A lot of good people aren't coming back._

Everyone in the room held a drink of some kind, whether that was a disposable cup of caf or one of the various kinds of liquor available on base. Despite the number of people in the room, the atmosphere was muted, the conversations quiet.

He felt someone nudge his elbow, and turned slightly to see Snap, cup of caf in hand, giving him an uncertain grin. “I think everyone's here.” Jess, standing nearby, nodded her agreement.

Poe took a deep breath. “Right.”

“You've got this, boss,” said Pava, tipping her glass in a slight salute.

“Yeah.” The squadron leader cleared his throat and stepped forward. The quiet conversations quickly petered out.

“Evening, everyone,” he began, giving one of his trademark charming smiles. There was a low murmur of acknowledgment from around the room.

He felt the eyes of everyone on him, and somewhat nervously licked his lips. _Does this kind of public speaking ever get any easier?_

“I'm sure you all know why we're here tonight. We struck a great blow against the First Order, and in doing so, ensured that they will never again be able to wield such destructive power.” _Unless they build a new one, like the Empire did back in the day_ , his treacherous mind supplied.

“But our work is not done, and no victory comes without a price.” He let his eyes scan the faces in front of him: humans and non-humans alike, from every conceivable background, all united in a common purpose. “Many brave people gave their lives for us to come this far. _They_ are the reason that we carry on: to honor their memory, and to continue their mission of creating a galaxy where those to come can live free of fear.”

He raised his glass. “We're here tonight to recognize the sacrifices that they made, and to remember them as they would have wanted to be remembered: both as heroes, and as our friends.” He took a step back, nodding to Snap: it was the other pilot's turn to speak.

“I'd like to raise a glass to Ello Asty,” said Snap. “One hell of a pilot, and one of the finest wingmen a guy could ask for. Wherever he is now, I hope he's still flying high.”

The others raised their glasses. Poe closed his eyes, remembering the abrupt crackle of static as his fellow pilot's radio had cut out for the last time. Asty had been in his squadron since he signed on with the Resistance, and although the Abednedo hadn't been the best team player, he had been a major asset to Poe's tactics.

 _Killed by ground fire. One of the worst things any of us could imagine. Barely any warning, before you're blown out of the sky..._ He took a sip of his drink, feeling the cold burn of the liquor in his throat. _I'll miss him. I'll miss_ all _of them._

More members of the Resistance came forward after Snap, to share stories of their own or to express their condolences for others' losses. Poe methodically made his way through his drink, occasionally chiming in with a story of his own. There was a tight-knight atmosphere in the room, as if the deaths of their comrades had somehow brought them closer together.

He stared into the bottom of his glass, swirling the clear orange liquid around moodily. Even now, a few days after the fact, the assault on Starkiller base had a feeling of unreality, as if it had happened in a dream. He kept on expecting to return to the pilots' quarters to find Asty chatting with Snap, or round a corner and bump into one of the other pilots.

_What was it that General Organa said? We can't push these things away forever._

In a way, he supposed, Finn's injury had been a blessing in disguise. He had been so anxious about the plight of the living, he had afforded himself no time to dwell on the dead.

He let out a soft chuckle. _Am I naturally this philosophical, or is it just the alcohol?_

Everything about this situation was difficult. Still, he was a leader—not one of General Organa's caliber, but a leader nonetheless. And his position came with responsibilities to his subordinates, both living and dead. So he listened, and stamped every word and every face into his memory.

It was almost an hour before the assembly began to break up. Poe remained at the front of the room, speaking individually with many of the Resistance members as they reminisced about the fallen or excused themselves.

Pava, somewhat unsteady, left earlier than most, propped up on a technician's shoulder. Snap was one of the last to go, giving Poe a last nod before he headed out the door. At last, Poe was the last one left, an empty glass in his hand and an empty hall in front of him.

He sank into a chair with a long sigh, his glass clacking on the table's surface as he set it down, and leaned back with closed eyes. _I should really just go back and get some sleep._

Despite this, Poe made no move to get up. He was on the brink of dozing off when he heard footsteps behind him and turned.

It was General Organa, a cup of caf in her hand. He began to scramble to his feet. “General—” Belatedly, he remembered that nobody else was in the room and relaxed. “I mean, Leia.”

“Hello, Poe,” said Leia, smiling gently. She gestured to the chair opposite him. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not...”

The General settled in, meeting Poe's eyes. “How was it?”

“The meeting?” Poe sighed. “It was... not something that I'm used to.”

“I wouldn't expect you to be used to it,” said Leia. “And I hope you never do.”

Poe nodded. “I didn't see you in there... were you busy?”

“Well, people might have been nervous if I was in the room,” said Leia. “As much as I try to put everyone at ease, there will always be a few people who can only see me as a superior officer—or, for that matter, a legend.”

“Well, both those things are true,” said Poe with a chuckle.

Leia laughed wryly. “You have a point.” She sipped at her caf. “Still, I think you did quite well.”

“You do?” Poe's brow furrowed. “I thought that you weren't...” He gestured vaguely.

“Not in person, but I do have my ways of knowing what's going on on-base.” She took another long drink of caf, a satisfied expression on her face. “If I may say so... I'm proud of you.”

Poe's eyes widened slightly, and he blinked a few times before a slow smile came to his face. “Thank you, Leia,” he said. “Coming from you, that means a lot. I'm glad that I was able to live up to your expectations.”

“I do have an eye for talent, after all,” said Leia with a wink. Her cup made a hollow noise as she set it down, and Poe began to stand.

“If you'd like some more, I could refill it for you,” he offered.

“That would be—” Leia stopped as Poe's comlink buzzed, making the pilot jump. He quickly thumbed it on.

“Yes?”

“Poe Dameron, correct?”

The voice on the other end took him a moment to place, but his heart jumped into his throat when he recognized it. _The medic_... _that's right, I told her how to get in touch._ “Th-that's me, yes,” he said, voice shaking slightly.

“I hope that I didn't wake you up. I know that it's rather late, but—”

Poe cut her off, a note of worry in his voice. “Is something wrong with Finn?”

The medic's tone was brusque and businesslike as she responded. “The opposite. Vitals indicate your friend's waking up. Not sure he'll recognize the room, so it might be good to have a friendly face nearby, just in case. Can you make it over?”

 _Finn is waking up?!_ He suddenly felt short of breath, and unsure of what to do next. He turned to Leia, a mute plea for help on his face.

Leia blinked. “He's waking up, isn't he?”

Poe, not sure what to say, merely nodded stiffly.

“Then what are you waiting for? Go see him.” At his further hesitation, the corners of Leia's eyes crinkled slightly in amusement. “I assure you, I can pour my own caf.”

Poe's head bobbed several more times in nervous assent. “Um. Right. Thanks, Leia.”

The General raised her eyebrows, smiling. “Don't stand around thanking me. You're in a hurry, aren't you?”

A broad grin came to Poe's face. “I suppose you're right.” Dodging around the tables and chairs, he made his way out into the hallway, thumbing his comlink as he went. “I'll be there immediately.”

As soon as he was in the clear, he broke into a run, pounding down the hall at near breakneck pace. He reached the door of the infirmary, gritting his teeth in impatience at the delay before the door slid open.

The medic looked up at his entrance, a smile coming to her face. “My, you're certainly punctual.” She gestured over to Finn's bed, consulting her screen. “Diagnostics say he'll be awake shortly.”

Poe seated himself next to the bed, stilling his rather labored breathing, and watched Finn with quiet anticipation. After a few moments, he saw the other man's eyelids began to flicker fitfully, and a cough escaped his lips.

“Finn? You awake, buddy?”

The ex-stormtrooper turned his head slowly, an incredulous look coming to his face. “Poe...” His eyes fell on the tattered jacket, still draped by the side of his bed, and he smiled apologetically. “Sorry about your jacket.”

Poe blinked, then burst out laughing. “ _That_ was the first thing you thought of?”

“It was the first thing I saw,” said Finn, chuckling softly. He held up a hand. “Good to see you, too, though.”

Poe took his hand and squeezed it, smiling. “Good to have you back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a bad habit of having long delays between my chapters, and I apologize for that... hopefully this chapter is worth the wait!
> 
> As always, I enjoy reading any comments or feedback that you may have!

**Author's Note:**

> Check out some of my [other works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvanion/works), if you're so inclined. You can also find me on [tumblr](http://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com/), where I make multifandom jokes and steadfastly promote the ship name "Puffin" over "Stormpilot."


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